The Argumental Afterword

Couldn't get enough eh-now would'ya look-at-that One Hiphop beat and Karly D's back Of course I'd say it so matter-a-fact Come on inside, kick your feet up, and sit on back Wrote this whole track just, diss-ya again Wrote an LP in a year, now that's discipline Sets of five crunches, ooo so masculine Heads up in the clouds, ahh thanks mescaline! The omniscient penny-stock investor Profitless cornucopia, so sick of trash Bested by the Tweety to my Silvestor Looks like I'm the one sufferin' succotash Woah woah. Stop. Come on. Stop. It says here you're an acoustic singer-songwriter Psh. More like a fire-igniter, the label denier with niter whose lyrics are tighter What? Those are words that rhyme, ya, but let's just stick to the musical label Nah, I'd rather live in this fable